War Stories
by kirstencohen
Summary: Ryan has absolutely no idea how much Kirsten can relate to his past. Violence. Swearing. KirstenRyan angst ONE SHOT Its been up before but ive changed it slightly so please R


**WARNING: This fanfic is pretty brutal so if you don't like violence please don't read. I warned you so don't get mad.**

**P.S. This has been up before but i've added to it and made it make more sense.**

Kirsten stood in the kitchen in front of the stove. Ryan was handing her random objects from the fridge. "Milk and ...eggs" he finished, "Have you got the bread?"

"Check," she answered determinedly.

"Okay now the rule when making French toast is not to soak the bread too much or else it's just a big eggy mess." Ryan explained. Kirsten tried to stifle her laughter but Ryan caught sight of her, "What?"

"A big eggy mess? It's just... I've never heard you talk like that. Your always so... _serious_." She said emphasising the last word.

"Serious?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Always." She answered with a nod. Ryan turned his attention back to the bowl.

"Lets just start with the mixing. Now put your eggs in the bowl... no **break** them, **break** the eggs into the bowl... that's it and now a little drop of milk... no more than that... a little bit more... ah too much!" A frustrated Kirsten had poured half the carton of milk into the bowl. He took the bowl from Kirsten's hands and poured the milky mixture down the sink. "Okay let's start again."

Once Kirsten had mastered how to make the concoction of milk and eggs for French toast she began to dip the bread into the bowl, "Just make sure it doesn't get too saturated." He looked at Kirsten, "Serious," she teased.

Ryan put the oil in the frying pan as Kirsten added the salt and pepper to the mixture. "Okay now put the bread in." Ryan instructed. As Kirsten placed the bread on the pan, the boiling hot oil sputtered and sprayed Kirsten's arm. "Ahh! Hot. Oil. Sore." She ran to the sink and placed her arm under the cold tap. Her skin was red from where the oil had been splashed. Ryan came up behind her, "Don't worry it'll die down." He assured. He took Kirsten's hand and led her to a chair. She sat fanning cold air onto her arm as Ryan fetched some ointment. He sat in front of her and held her arm he rubbed some onto the burn. "There you go. All better," he stooped down and kissed the angry red marks on her arm. He remembered how his mom used to do that to him when he was younger. Kirsten smiled and was about to thank him but she stopped and sniffed the air. Smoke. "Oh no the toast!" she jumped up and ran to the stove and tried to stifle the flames. Ryan gently grabbed her elbow and moved her calmly out of the way. She began to search for a towel to stifle the flames but Ryan had already found the fire extinguisher put out the fire.

Later Kirsten and Ryan sat out on the patio. They had settled for bagels and coffee. They talked about Ryan's school and Kirsten's job. They were glad to be able to talk to each other at last. Ryan leaned over and lifted Kirsten's arm, "See? I told you it would die down." He said while observing the pink marks that were left. He noticed a scar on her elbow. "How did you get that?" Kirsten looked down and realised what he was looking at. "Oh I... uh... I fell on some broken glass when I was out... uh drunk... with friends." She stuttered. Ryan looked at her perplexed. He knew she was lying but he couldn't figure why she would lie about a silly scar on her elbow. He noticed Kirsten was blushing and wringing her hands. Ryan didn't want to push her but something was nagging her and he had to find out what it was.

"I've got a bunch of scars," He went on before stopping realising how lame he must sound but he had got her attention so he continued, "Just some pleasant reminders of my Mom and her asshole boyfriends." Kirsten fixed her gaze and he looked away, "never mind." He sighed.

"Tell me about your life," she pressed. She knew nothing about this boy she considered her own, "please," she said weakly. He stared at her intently, "Only if you tell me how you got that scar." Kirsten began to wring her hands again. When she looked up he sensed the panic in her eyes. "I'm sorry it doesn't matter." He said hurriedly kicking himself. They were finally becoming comfortable around each other and now he had ruined it. He got up from the table and began to clear away the plates. Kirsten put her hand on his and said, "Asshole boyfriend." Ryan sat back down and prepared himself for what he knew was coming. "You first?" Kirsten requested.

"Sure." Ryan answered.

It was raining. He and Trey were in their bedroom playing cards. "Now kid. If Mom's taught me anything over the years it's how to count cards." Trey informed. Ryan looked at the yellow stained ace of hearts he was holding in his hands. He heard the front door open and someone stumble in. Trey went to the door of their bedroom to investigate. He found his mother lying in a heap in front of the open door. Rain was pouring into the house so Ryan moved his mother out of the way and Trey closed the door. "Come on man. Help me get her up. You're fifteen years old it's time you helped around this fucking place." Ryan obediently went to his mother's side and threw her arm over her shoulders. Trey did the same on the other side.

When the three of them entered the bedroom Dawn was mumbling something about being a failure. They placed her down on the bed, "My baby," she said signalling to Ryan, "My angel." She pulled him into an overwhelming hug and Trey stood on the other side of the bed scowling at his golden haired angel of a brother. Trey knew that Ryan was her angel because he didn't remind her of their father. Ryan had inherited dirty blonde locks and piercing blue eyes from his mother whereas Trey had received his muddy brown tresses and dark eyes from their bastard father. He had paid for it.

Dawn went limp and Ryan slid out from under her arms. He saw his brother scowl and turn away. He felt guilty. He knew he was Dawn's favourite but he couldn't help that their drunken junkie mom seemed to take shine to him when she was out of her face on smack. He retreated back to his bedroom and took out his book for school. "Why the fuck are you reading that?" Trey had entered their bedroom.

"It's for school. It has to be done by Monday or I get detention." He explained.

"I was teaching you bro. About cards. Now get you skinny ass on the floor and listen." Ryan complied but they yet again heard the front door swing open. Ryan looked at Trey in a panic. Trey jumped to his feet and threw Ryan's shoes to him while he was pulling on his own. He ran and grabbed his coat and Ryan picked up his leather jacket and grey hoodie. Trey was half way out the window and Ryan was just behind him when a guy in a heavy boots and torn blue jeans came storming into their room. "Where the fuck is she?" he stopped, realising what they were doing and grabbed Ryan by the scruff of the neck. He threw him to the floor and did the same to Trey. "Where is she?" he repeated. Ryan looked at his brother and Trey spoke up, "We don't know. We were asleep. We thought that you were our mom so we tried to sneak out the window." The man smashed his fist into the side of Trey's face. "Well if she's not gonna pay then someone's gonna have to do it for her." He spat out. He lifted Ryan by the shirt and ploughed him into the wall. He took Ryan's head and smashed it three times against the peeling wallpaper. He punched him in the stomach till he couldn't breathe. Ryan crumpled into a ball. He went over to Trey and spun him onto his back. He brought his fist to his face and Trey began to spit blood. He lifted him off his feet and pushed him against the wall. "Where is she?" he yelled again. Trey fought against the man he recognised as an old boyfriend of his mother's, Jack. When Trey didn't answer Jack smashed his head into the wall behind him, "WHERE IS SHE?"

"I don't know." He said as best he could with the guy's hand against his throat.

"Not good enough." He hissed before throwing Trey to the floor and rounding on Ryan again. He thrust his foot into his ribs and Ryan called out. He turned and searched the room before finding twenty dollars hidden in Trey's shoe. Jack went over to Ryan again and lifted him by the hair, "That's just a fucking warning." He thrust his foot into Trey's ribs before he walked out of the room.

Trey turned to his brother who was lying in a heap next to the wall now covered in his own blood. Trey crawled over to him and realised that he was unconscious. Trey tried to get to his feet but he was bent double trying not to pass out from the pain. He checked Ryan's pulse. It was there. Barely. Dawn still hadn't woken up but Trey kept on fighting to get to their phone. Only a minute had passed but it felt like a lifetime. When he reached the phone and held it to his ear. It was dead. She hadn't paid the bills again. Fuck.

Just as Trey was about to give up Theresa burst threw the open door and rushed to him. "What happened? I saw the guy leave. Who was he?"

"Dealer." He said simply and Theresa nodded, "Ryan?" she asked. Trey lifted his hand and pointed to their bedroom. Theresa sped into their bedroom and found Ryan on the floor covered in blood. She felt for a pulse. It was faint. She ran into the living room and lifted the phone to her ear. It was dead. Fuck. She made a decision. She bolted out the door and ran down the street. She returned a moment later with her brother Arturo. He lifted Trey, "Come on man. I'll drive you. It's quicker than any ambulance in this fucking town." He threw his arm over his shoulders and carried him to the back seat of his car. When he returned he tried to lift Ryan but he screamed out in pain. "Come on man what the fuck do you want me to do? Get up. Don't be a fucking ass." He lifted Ryan trying to ignore the yelps of pain coming from him and put him in the car next to his brother.

Kirsten listened intently while keeping a firm grip on Ryan's hand. "That was the worst beating I ever got. My head was split open and both legs were broken. I had a hairline fracture in my ribs. Four of Trey's ribs were broken." He finished suddenly realising how much he had told Kirsten. He told too much. But he knew it was her turn soon so he continued. "My mom didn't wake up till the next day. Theresa's mom took care of us. For a while anyway..." his voice trailed off.

"Ryan. I had no idea it was that bad. I knew about your mom and... alcohol and the drugs but..." she leaned in and embraced him. It was more for her own comfort than his. Kirsten looked at Ryan and waited for him to say, "Your turn."

Ryan stared into Kirsten's grey blue eyes and waited for her story. She looked up, "It was after Jimmy. Before Sandy. He..." she stopped and took a breath. "He was great. He was smart, funny, and gorgeous. We moved really, really fast. I had moved in with him a month after we'd started dating. It was better than living in the back of a mail truck I guess."

She paused and thought about the first time.

Kirsten threw her bag onto the floor and proceeded to tidy up around her. Plates and newspapers littered the floor. Why does he need to be such a pig? She thought aloud. When she finished cleaning she heard the front door swing open. She turned to find him staggering up the hall. "Hey honey. Go for a couple of drinks?" she laughed as he struggled to stand.

"So fucking what if I did?" he yelled

"What's wrong with you?"

"Get out of my fucking way." He pushed Kirsten to the side and went into the kitchen where he poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels. Kirsten entered the kitchen and took the bottle from his hands, "You are gonna talk to me, Scott. What's wrong?" Scott smashed his glass on the floor. He turned to Kirsten and threw out his arm. Kirsten fell to the floor her elbow sunk into the broken shards of glass and he grabbed her by the hair, "YOU DON'T FUCKING CARE!!" He threw her back down. Kirsten's hands went to her face as he stooped down again and hissed in her ear, "You wanna know what's wrong? Huh? Well come on. Get up and listen." Kirsten stayed motionless. She couldn't move. It didn't matter because he had already started to pull her into the next room. He chucked her onto the couch. "IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT!" he was yelling at her as the tears streamed down her face. "You. You. It was you. You and your fucking nagging! Why couldn't you just leave it alone?" Kirsten looked up perplexed.

"What?" she whispered, "What are you talking about?" He slapped her again. "You know. Don't act like the dumb blonde they all think you are! I just got fired from my fucking shitty job because of YOU! Don't fucking deny it. Don't you fucking dare!" Kirsten lay in a crumpled heap not knowing what he was talking about. What could she possibly have done? He stormed out of the living room leaving Kirsten alone with only her thoughts and her pain.

A few months had passed and Kirsten had gotten a job working in a bar. She would get home from University and be out at work before he even got home. She would pray to God that he would be sleeping when she got home. She made a decision. She hated God.

One night after her shift at the bar she went into the bathroom and washed off her makeup. It was her mask. It was easier for her to hide behind it than admit what was going on. She was too scared to look behind it and see what she was really like. She was afraid she would see what he told her she was; a slut; repulsive; brainless. She had never had the courage to look behind it. She always took off her makeup at the bar. The taps were too noisy in the apartment and she was always so scared of waking up Scott that she never even dared pour herself a glass of water no matter how thirsty she was. She always stood at the sink with no mirror. Until now. Now she looked at her reflection. The cracked glass amplified the scars. Swollen, bruised, wrecked. She saw her black eye times three. She thought to herself that no matter how much makeup she used it couldn't have covered the swelling in her left eye and in her lip. She had cuts all over the back of her head, which were covered when her hair was down. But when her hair was up goodness knows what she looked like. At that moment it hit her. Everyone knew what he was doing to her and they didn't lift a hand to help. Kirsten herself was petrified to leave Scott for fear of him hunting her down. He would kill her. Under the brash fluorescent lights she stood tears dripping down her battered face. She pulled her coat close to her and winced when she pressed on her bruised ribs. She looked down at the pregnancy test laid out before her. She waited in anticipation for the stick to change. Fifteen minutes was up. It was pink. It was solid. It was positive.

She exited the clinic feeling used and dirty. She wrapped her arms around her body as she sat in her car and wept. For her child. For the child of a violent man. For her soul.

One night after her shift, it was around 4am and she exited the bar with the familiar feeling of dread washing over her. As she shuffled down the street in her short black skirt and white tee, short enough to see her belly button (required uniform for the bar), she was approached by a dirty blonde dog. It put its paws up on her legs and barked softly. She bent down and checked for a nametag. There was none. She looked up to find a tall man with dark hair and a warm smile jogging towards her, "Murray! Get down. Down!" he ordered. The dog looked at him and tilted its head and continued to paw at Kirsten, "Sorry. He's not entirely trained yet. Maybe I shouldn't have let him off his leash." He laughed when he reached her, "I'm Sandy." He held out his hand and Kirsten shook it, careful to keep her head down covering her bruised face. The dog, Murray, jumped suddenly in an attempt to lick Kirsten's face and she jumped back. Sandy stopped laughing and gasped. He only stared for a second before he asked, "Would you like to go for a coffee?"

It took a lot of persuading before Kirsten allowed him to buy her a coffee. She knew that she would look worse under the light but there was something about him. Maybe he could be her escape. If only for a night. Sandy never pushed her to tell him anything. They chatted about everything; likes, dislikes, school, friends but never Scott. Kirsten had got up to leave and Sandy grabbed her arm, she flinched automatically. He instantly let her go. "Are you going back to whoever did that to you?" he asked gravely. She turned to leave, "Kirsten. Let me help you. Please." She ran into the street and leaned against the wall of the café. She couldn't breathe. She had been holding it in for months. She refused to cry in front of Scott anymore. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing her pain. Her weakness. She was too strong to break down in front of him but she couldn't hold it in any longer. She crumpled at the side of the building and she felt strong arms surround her. She turned and buried her beaten face into his chest and wept. He stroked her hair and held her until she pulled back, "Please just let it go." She pleaded, "Just... let it go."

"I can't let you go back to him. You don't deserve it."

"Please just let me go." She begged again tears forming in her eyes again.

"I can't Kirsten. I can't."

"JUST LET ME GO!" She yelled and fought against him, "LET ME GO... please. Just... let me go." She began to sob again and Sandy pulled him toward her. She continued to fight against him but she eventually fell into his arms.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise you Kirsten. I'm gonna look after you. I promise." She looked at him and saw his eyes gaze down at her. She let him help her get to his feet and lead her to his apartment.

She changed into a pair of his boxers and a baggy t-shirt. "Thank you." She whispered as she slid under the sheets. He turned off the lamp on his bedside table and made his way into the living room to the comfort of his couch before answering, "Your welcome, Kirsten."

She knew she had to go home. He would be worried. Or would he? She didn't know if he loved her or not anymore. Or if he ever did. But she knew she had to go home. Sandy walked her to her building and she turned to say goodbye but he walked straight passed her and into the building, "You've been out all night. I'm not letting you go in there and face him on your own. Just get your stuff and leave. I'll be right next to you. I promise I won't leave you."

"You can't. I can't. I can't leave him. When did I ever say anything about leaving?"

"Are you kidding me? Look at you! Your face had been battered to bits and you probably have like three broken ribs. After this I'm taking you to the hospital. You're gonna stay with a maniac who treats you like this? Think about it. I'm here to help you." He paused trying to read her expression. She looked back at him confused. Is this what she had been praying for? He went on almost pleadingly, "Isn't that what you've been waiting for? A white knight?"

Kirsten nodded and walked over to Sandy. She clasped his hand and turned her key. She hadn't got her key out of the door before Scott came crashing out into the lobby. He grabbed Kirsten by the sweater and dragged her into the house. Sandy pulled Scott of Kirsten and punched him on the jaw. Scott recoiled, shocked, but he flew into action as he took Sandy and smashed his head off the wall. Sandy pounded Scott in the ribs and got him to the floor. He pinned him down and punched him in the face. He was so full of rage that he couldn't stop. He didn't stop. He didn't want to stop. He just kept punching him. Over and over. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't. He could hear Kirsten screaming in the background. He felt her tugging on him and pleading with him to get off him. But he kept on punching him. Pain seared through his hand but he didn't care. He hated this man for everything he had done. For a second he had wanted to kill him but he heard Kirsten screaming again and he stopped. He fell to the side and collapsed onto the wall. He put his hand to his nose. It was bleeding. He sprang for the phone. 911.

Ryan sat back in his chair shocked at Kirsten's description. She had been crying for the last half of her story and Ryan had tightened his hold on her hand. "Sandy broke Scott's ribs and his nose. He was knocked unconscious and he didn't wake up until we were in the ambulance. I had a broken rib that was three weeks old and Sandy's nose was broken." She stopped. Had she told him too much? She hadn't told Seth about Scott. She hadn't told anyone. She never even mentioned him to Sandy anymore. It was like he never existed. But there was something about her son that made her open up. Maybe it was his willingness to shut up and listen. Maybe it was that he could identify with her. She didn't know. She would probably never know. They sat enveloped in each other's arms. Ryan cried as silent tears fell from his eyes and Kirsten sobbed into her son's shoulder.

Who would have guessed that on a quiet Sunday morning the boy from Chino and the Homecoming Queen from Newport would be out on the patio of the manor swapping war stories?

**Hope you liked. Plaese Review.**


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